The Best Laid Plans
by Neuronerd
Summary: HGTV's Property Brothers have had a successful life and while they may at times struggle with what fame means, they know they will always have each other no matter what. Not twincest, but rated M for some possible hurt!Drew ;)
1. Solid Foundations

**A/N: Hello again! I'm back with another little project for HGTV's Property Brothers, Drew and Jonathan Scott. I'm not sure how long this will be or how frequently I will update, but I do hope you enjoy and feel inclined to review ;)**

"_Our siblings push buttons that cast us in roles we felt sure we had let go of long ago — the baby, the peacekeeper, the caretaker, the avoider... It doesn't seem to matter how much time has elapsed or how far we've traveled." ~Jane Mersky Leder_

**Chapter 1- Solid Foundations**

In one swift, smooth motion Jonathan quickly wiped the sweat from his brow and smoothed his unruly hair before letting his hand fall limply to his side. He let out a very small sigh and tried not to look nearly as annoyed as he felt. She was already irate and if he appeared anything less than fully sympathetic to her litany of ultimately delusional complaints, he cringed at what fresh Hell might befall him. So, although he knew it may ultimately cause him more time and trouble down the road, he stood quietly and allowed her to take her proverbial pound of flesh.

Truth be told, he was too exhausted to otherwise protest. It had to be every bit of 110 degrees and as the house was currently lacking walls to accommodate the larger kitchen she said she wanted and was now railing against, there was nothing but what little natural airflow Mother Nature was kind enough to provide. He tried his best to look sympathetic and rapidly blinked the rivulet of salt laden sweat from his stinging eyes because he didn't dare make another move that may look like he was blowing her off. But as he listened to her, he marveled at her complete lack of spatial ability and it was all he could do not to laugh in her face. She was incredibly unhappy with the home's original tiny kitchen and he fully agreed. He showed her his design for an area at least twice the size and explained that he would accomplish this by removing the back wall and extending it out into the patio before reframing it all and hanging the new cabinets. Yet somehow, she was astonished that he couldn't somehow make her dreams come true without removing the wall as he so plainly told her he would. Exactly how he was supposed to defy the laws of basic math and geometry was beyond him. He literally was a magician, but even he had limits. He was also an exceedingly patient man, but that boundary was too fast approaching.

On one hand, he could understand that renovation- especially for a first time homebuyer like she and her newlywed husband were- could be an incredibly stressful experience. When homeowners invariably became nervous about the progress, scope, and cost of a job, they often adopted a shoot the messenger mentality and he was unfortunately usually the bearer of sometimes catastrophically bad news. Because of this, he had more proverbial war wounds than he cared to count. Still, he always tried to remind himself that while in a few weeks he would be off on another project and then another and another, this was a permanent life for the people in front of him. They would wake up every day in his creation for the foreseeable future, so he tried to respect their views. But sometimes homeowners expected the moon and stars on a shoestring budget and worse yet, completely lacked any concept of scale or design. In his mind there were simple disagreements of color or form which could be easily resolved or compromised on, there was second guessing which was mildly irritating but he attributed to fear of the unknown or inexperience, and then there were people like her. While thankfully rare, these were the people who probably couldn't nail two boards together and yet presumed to tell him how to do his job as if they built Rome in a day. His eye twitched and he couldn't hold out any longer. He reached up to scratch his nose consequences be damned and wondered why she and others like her bothered to hire him in the first place if they had all the answers.

Just as she was getting her second wind, he seized the opportunity to reign her in before she took up even more of his valuable time. He gave her an easy yet secretly forced smile and kept his tone soft and supportive, tapping into the small part of him that really could still forgive her for her tirade. "I know this all seems like we're going backwards here," he nodded glancing back through the kitchen and out to the fence beyond where the wall was and in her mind at least, should have been, "but if you want all that extra space for your kitchen we have to build it and that means at least temporarily changing the way the house looks. I promise you," he chuckled as he gave another small lopsided grin, "I will put it back and next time when you drop by unexpectedly you'll get a better idea of where we're going." He raised his eyebrows with a hopeful smile and waited for the hubris to set in. When she finally shook her head and laughed and he knew she was feeling better about the prospect, he took his cue. "And speaking of going…." He gestured toward the door with a lilt in his voice. Heck, he would even be a gentleman and walk her to the door himself if that was what it took to finally find some peace.

"I…" she hesitated in the doorway somewhat embarrassed. "I'm really sorry for tearing into you like that. I know you and Drew are trying to help us, it just seems overwhelming." She hung her head and seemed genuinely sad.

Jonathan mopped his forehead with his shirtsleeve and sighed. He was no psychologist, but he liked to think he was fairly good at reading people and something told him there was more to the story. His gut also told him to stay the hell out of it. He put his hands on his hips and smirked to lighten the mood. "_I'm_ trying to help you, but we both know Drew isn't doing anything unless you have him shopping for facial cleansers at the spa every day." He spotted Drew strolling up the walk and made sure to say it loud enough for him to hear.

Drew did hear him, but as he passed the homeowner in the doorway he put on his best innocent look and asked "What's this?" He too felt he was pretty good at judging people and in fact, better than Jonathan because he had to use his social skills to negotiate unlike his twin who spent most of his time talking to himself while designing or singing to the floor tile he was installing. In the split second he had, he was able to notice the homeowner was in a down mood and his brother was using his dig at him as a means of diffusing the situation. While he was never apologetic for his reluctance to get his hands dirty, he was more than willing to play along with his brother's act if it meant smoothing over whatever happened before his arrival. Never let it be said he was not truly a team player.

"All relaxed after a hard morning of pencil pushing?" Jonathan playfully asked folding his arms across his chest.

Drew grinned as he took in the sight of his twin with his safety glasses, blue t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, and a myriad of tools hanging in his black studded tool belt. His hair was pushed back from his face and he thought with careful hairstyling the two could switch places and maybe no one would notice- until he may actually have to use a power tool or estimate the bearing of a point load. He shook his head a little with the realization that at least on that front he would never want to switch places and chuckled, "Yeah, I had to walk an extra block to get my smoothie because I couldn't find a decent parking spot, so I got an extra-long hot stone massage that was to _die_ for." He was secure enough in his own masculinity not to care what anyone thought of his enjoyment of spa treatments even if he did exaggerate sometimes.

"That sounds great right about now." The homeowner sighed wistfully as she turned to go.

"Go downtown and ask for Helga. Tell her I sent you!" He called after her cheerfully. As he watched her car pull out of the drive, it crossed his mind that maybe he should have clarified he was only kidding and he didn't know anyone named Helga. He was distracted when Jonathan let out a deep and burdened sigh that was a little worrisome and rubbed his face vigorously. "You ok?" Drew asked cautiously. It wasn't really like his brother to harbor so much tension even under the worst of circumstances. "What happened?"

Jonathan shook his head slowly and tried to put the events of the last 15 minutes into proper context because in reality, it felt like it had stretched on for hours. "I think it's just stress. They're probably having arguments or something."

Drew nodded somberly and with no measure of glee finished his brother's unspoken thoughts. "And she came here to tear a strip off you about the reno." It was something the two had experienced a time or two over the course of their time in business together. If they weren't complaining to Jonathan about the renovation process, they were laying into him for not finding the exact shape, size, color, location, or price of the house they wanted as if he personally and singlehandedly controlled the housing market.

"Maybe." He conceded as he turned back to the box of tile he had opened to be sure the contents matched the label. All too often it didn't and he wasn't about to set off another round of fireworks should there be a mismatch. He wanted to give himself plenty of time to reorder or run to every store in the state himself if he had to before breathing a word about it to the homeowners. "But whatever, I don't take it personally."

Drew placed his hands on his hips and watched his brother from behind. He had no doubts because Jonathan let far more slide than the average person. It was almost like he had some kind of apathetic superpower, but even so at some point it had to start bothering him and he might have been at that point judging by the way his shoulders slumped slightly. He bit his lip and considered his next move carefully. He didn't want to seem too indifferent or accusatory, but something gnawed at him. Even though he couldn't pinpoint it, he knew there was something wrong but he just didn't know how to speak to the elephant in the room. He was used to using the vibe he was getting to extract or exploit others during the course of business, but he was a little less practiced at offering such overt support without seeming too sappy. Even if Jonathan was willing to overlook his ineptitude, which he probably would be because to him the thought would probably be all that mattered, he was still a little hesitant to possibly make a mountain out of a molehill. As he watched him he began to second guess himself and rationalize the red flags as fatigue from the heat, long work schedules, or maybe even just another instance in which, as he was prone to do, withdraw into himself when he was deep in thought about designs or logistics. Drew knew his brother was wicked smart, but sometimes he just needed some time to quietly process the huge amounts of detail that was always swirling around in his skull.

He hung his head and resolved to let it go, hoping he made the right decision and hating himself just a little for not acting on his instincts. Still, he felt he had to do or say something- anything to shake the gloom that had settled between them. "Hey," he said gently reaching out to tap Jonathan on the shoulder, "it's pretty hot. How long do you think you're going to work today?" He hoped he used the right degree of inflection to make it known he was concerned about his wellbeing and wanted him to just call it a day, but he almost already knew what the answer would be.

Jonathan continued inspecting the tiles for breakage and half-heartedly responded, "Probably late. I don't want to take the chance of any delays down the line so I'm going to get as much done as fast as I can. That way when and if something does come up, I'll have a bit of a cushion in the timeline."

"If not the budget." Drew grumbled as he turned to go, resigned to his brother's logical yet infuriating stubbornness. "Just drink a lot of water and take a lot of breaks, ok?" He instructed. The last thing he wanted was to find him the next day dead of heat stroke, still clutching his hammer. At least he had enough sense not to wear one of his plaid long sleeve shirts.

Jonathan suppressed a smile because he could pick up on his abject misery without even looking at him. And while he appreciated his concern, Drew sometimes didn't understand that he didn't have the same degree of freedom to slack off as he did. Problems had a way of multiplying if he didn't stay on top of them and no amount of massage could make them go away. "Who's the big brother here?" He asked deviously.

Drew didn't skip a beat, happy his mood at least seemed to lighten a little. "Who's got the degree in kinesiology? _This_ guy." He emphasized proudly pointing at himself.

"Is that why you're always at the spa getting massages and colonics, and god knows what else?" He laughed. "You can't stay young forever, you know."

"That's right, I know and will always do what's best for me." He confirmed with a playful grin at his brother's snipe.

"Yes, that you will." Jonathan sighed as he turned his attention back to his box of tiles. "You always do."


	2. My Own Worst Enemy

"_If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there worrying. It's the worry that gets you, not the lack of sleep." ~Dale Carnegie_

**Chapter 2- My Own Worst Enemy**

Drew rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock for what seemed like the hundredth time during the past hour and heaved a deep and restless sigh. He couldn't kid himself, he wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. He knew it was a little silly, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling of knowing it was the wee hours of the morning and Jonathan had yet to come home. As he lay there in the dark, in his mind he went over the same conversation he had with himself a million times. He may have been a little concerned, but this was far from the first time he had been at the jobsite extraordinarily late. Maybe he wasn't even working, he was an adult and maybe he decided to go out to a bar or something. He wasn't his mother- Jonathan didn't have to ask permission or check in with him first if that was what he wanted to do. Except he didn't- he never did things like that and that was what made him worry. Even when he did work late, he usually sent a quick text just to let him know what was going on. He fumbled in the dark to find his cellphone on the nightstand and then squinted at the bright light of the screen, but even through his blurred vision he could see there were no messages and his heart sank a little.

He really didn't like thinking the worst of people and really, he tried to make a contentious effort to think and project positivity out into the universe, but there was no denying that sometimes really odd things happen when complete strangers become convinced they know you when they watch you on TV. For the most part both he and Jonathan were essentially themselves while filming, although of course for the sake of the show they had to really play up the clean-cut realtor vs. the hands-on contractor for those who couldn't easily tell them apart otherwise. Still, they prided themselves on being genuine and he for one felt that was part of what resonated with fans of the shows. The simple truth was, even though the filming and appearance schedule was at times grueling, they truly loved what they did. He really did enjoy meeting people and sometimes during meet and greets he smiled so much his face hurt, but deep down who wouldn't like the adoration?

Sometimes people got overly excited to meet them and sometimes they weren't always courteous in their pursuit and timing of their approach, but even then they tried to accommodate as many as possible despite being desperately tired or in the middle of eating or on a phone call. But then there were those who just took it too far and he had been party to and witnessed too many instances of boorish and downright stalker behavior not to be at least a little concerned. He always told himself that being as tall and fit as he was with martial arts training, he could probably handle the average housewife who tended to make up the bulk of their fans, but what if he wasn't? What if someone somewhere sometime decided in their own twisted and diseased minds that he was to marry them or that they were supposed to kill him in some sick sense of destiny so they could be together forever? What if that same someone mistook Jonathan for him? These were the things that had always kept him up at night.

He wouldn't have called himself a worrier, but he fought the urge to text his brother just to be sure he was alright because he didn't want to seem like a needy and clingy little brother. Besides, they were twins, but they weren't conjoined. Jonathan had his own life and his own business to attend to, such as it was. Maybe he found someone for once and was busy. Drew smiled in the darkness remembering how when they were growing up it was Jonathan who in big brother fashion helped his shy younger brother learn to approach girls, but now it was quite the opposite and he was more quiet and reserved the older he got. While he had the good fortune to have a long term partner which sometimes made life on the road easier, Jonathan didn't have that and he worried it was in some ways wearing him down. It wasn't an easy life moving from city to city every seven months or so to film shows. In fact, it was a little depersonalizing because most places they went, they didn't know anyone aside from the film crew and it didn't make much sense to get too comfortable because your home was a short term rental and your "friends" only temporary. At times it felt like his whole life was a performance in that it was never real in a usual sense and nothing was stable. If that was the way it seemed to him, he couldn't imagine how his brother must have felt.

The one true exception was Jonathan. No matter how crazy his life seemed, his lifeline to reality was his twin. He was the one thread of continuity and the only other person with whom he shared any length of history and the prospect of his loss frightened him should anything happen. When they were teens, they sometimes spent summers apart and certainly did when they went off to college, but even so they typically talked on the phone every day. He just couldn't comprehend what life would be like without him and although he never really asked, he just assumed Jonathan felt the same way. The more he lay there and thought about it, he wondered if he could have done his job without his brother. How long could he live life on the road, traveling alone, all the stress and fatigue, how well could he handle it all without the support he just took for granted? It all began to make sense how so many young celebrities ended up train wrecks. While some may credit their humble sensibilities to being the prototypically polite Canadians sweeter than maple syrup, in truth they had agreed early on not to feed into the hype and to keep each other's egos in check. As such, they were voyeurs to their own fame and in turns baffled and bemused by it all.

He rolled onto his side and closed his deep brown eyes in what he assumed would be a futile effort to get some rest. If Jonathan was in trouble or needed someone to talk to, he would have called he reasoned. Surely he knew that no matter what time of the day or night, come Hell or high water, if he ever needed anything he would be there for him. Still, he couldn't stop the nagging little voice in his head that persistently asked "what if?" What if for some reason he felt he couldn't reach out? What if he had his chance earlier in the day and Jonathan mistook his indecision for indifference? His eyes flicked open and his blood temporarily ran cold when the thought crossed his mind, "What if he was really suffering today, but couldn't tell me and I walked away? What if he feels all alone and does something stupid and I could have stopped him?" Drew sat up in bed and tried to banish the thoughts from his mind. There was only one way he was going to get any peace and he didn't care what Jonathan thought of it. He would rather look like an idiot than look at his brother in his casket knowing he could have done something about it had he only opened his mouth.

"Drew?" Came Jonathan's perplexed voice on the other end.

He was a bit disoriented at the abrupt connection and as he didn't really have time to plan what he was going to say, stammered, "How did you know it was me?"

There was a long pause before his twin slowly responded "I have caller ID and your picture popped up on my cellphone." There was another long lag before he cautiously questioned, "Have you been drinking?"

"What? No! Why?" He asked irritated at the accusation.

"Well," Jonathan chuckled, "it's late and you sound confused. I thought you drunk dialed me or something. It's way past your bedtime."

Somehow this all ended up to be the nightmare he thought it would be. He was concerned for his brother's safety and yet it seemed he was about to tell their mom on him for staying up late. It was like they were nine years old again. "Me? At least I am in bed right now, where are you?"

It was Jonathan's turn to be confused and it reflected in his voice. "That seems a little personal. Do you want to know what I'm wearing too?"

"Plaid no doubt." Drew grumbled.

"Ha ha, very funny." He yawned. "So in case you were wondering, yes I'm fine. Was there something else you wanted aside from the welfare check?" He chuckled. He knew exactly why Drew was calling, but what he could only guess at was how long he had been up debating if he should even call at all.

Drew sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his free hand and sighed into the phone, half out of relief and half out of dread about how long he would be teased over this. However, he wasn't in a gaming mood, nor did he feel the need to explain himself. "Jonathan…" he began in his flat business tone.

He immediately took note of his intonation and knew it was no longer a joking matter. In a way he felt a little guilty for making light of his brother's concern when he was lucky he even cared enough to lose sleep over him in the first place. "I know." He admitted quietly, acknowledging his tacit fears. "I'm across the hall. I got home about two hours ago, but I was trying not to wake you up."

Drew laughed to himself when he realized for all that time all he had to do was open his bedroom door or worst case scenario look out a window to see if his truck was in the driveway rather than let his imagination run wild. "Wait, why didn't I hear your phone ring then?" He asked suspiciously.

Jonathan laughed loud enough for him to hear both on the phone and across the hall. "I have it on vibrate so it wouldn't make any noise! I told you I was trying to be quiet." He let out a few more fits of laughter before asking, "You do know how cellphones work, right? How long have you had one?"

"I'm tired." He replied tersely, hoping it was a good enough excuse. "I'm going to bed and you should too."

"Ok," Jonathan agreed before sniggering "how do you hang one of these things up again? Are you supposed to just toss it out the window when you're done?"

Rather than engage in an argument, Drew demonstrated by simply hanging up and fell backwards on his bed in exhaustion. From across the hall he heard his brother teasingly yell, "That was rude! I'm telling mom!"


	3. Rise and Shine

"_The highlight of my childhood was making my brother laugh so hard that food came out his nose." ~Garrison Keillor_

**Chapter 3- Rise and Shine**

Rather than being a welcome beacon heralding a new day, Drew squinted like a serial killer against the bright morning sun as the crew set up for what was in his opinion a ludicrously early morning shot of the home's progress. As the crew scurried about managing camera angles, cables, and whatnot, he couldn't help but wonder why he had to be hauled out of bed to wake up the roosters just to stand there yawning and going blind, but then he remembered they said it had something to do with the proper lighting and humidity with the lenses or something technical he didn't fully understand. He was no film major even though he dabbled a bit in directing But then again, when doing so he was the one barking orders which at the moment he found far more tolerable. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Jonathan and he just knew his day was about to get worse.

Jonathan took a long, slow sip of his tea and gave a polite nod to the makeup artist who was able to work miracles by erasing the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. She had to lay the concealer on a bit thick and he blinked his eyes rapidly in an effort to loosen it, but resisted the urge to rub it off because he knew he would look like hell on camera if he did. It didn't matter because if it was going to be another blazing hot day, it would wash away with his sweat anyway. He just wanted to get his scenes in before he started melting like a wax figure at Madam Tussaud's. He understood the need for makeup and even as a man didn't really have any qualms about wearing it as part of the job, but he never did like the way it felt like an itchy layer of clay that prevented the movement of every little crease or wrinkle his face. Over the course of the years filming the shows, he had gained a certain level of empathy for women and couldn't imagine how they wore it all day every day.

While he glanced over his lines, he noted Drew doing the dance of shuffling a step or two to the right and then the left until he got where the director wanted him in relation to the background. While it was a mildly irritating and sometimes lengthy process, typically he and Drew had a little fun with it. However, judging by the sour look on his brother's face and the way the crew tried to avoid him, he knew he had some work to do for his sake and everyone else's. As much as he might have teased him, Drew was no diva in the strictest sense but it was well known he was no morning person under the best of circumstances.

Jonathan fidgeted with his tool belt and felt somewhat culpable that he got so little sleep the night before. Drew was so predictable in that regard and a quick text would have made all the difference in the world. Yes it might have been a bit much, but part of being in a good relationship with a sibling, partner, friend or otherwise was knowing and accepting their foibles. His brother was at heart a detail oriented control freak, but in a completely benign and typically useful way. He imagined his inner world to look something like a warehouse with nearly organized rows of bins and categories for each human experience, and he further imagined him mentally walking up and down those aisles all day every day with a checklist to make sure it was all neat and tidy. He knew better than to cause panic by being at the jobsite late and really had no excuse for not checking in to ease his anxiety other than the rare slip of his own steel trap mind. In fact, the omission never even sank in until he pulled into the driveway behind Drew's BMW. The moment he saw it his heart skipped a beat and he reflexively craned his neck to look through the windshield at Drew's bedroom window, half expecting to see him standing there with his arms folded like he'd been caught cheating.

"Even though the housing market mad..was…gah!" Drew growled when he blew his lines for the third time. "Why can't I just get it out?!" Before he realized what he'd done, he left his carefully staged stance and began to pace in circles quietly rehearsing his lines to himself in frustration. The crew's dread was almost palpable as they knew they would have to get him to dance back into place again.

It seemed as good a time as any to diffuse the bomb he watched ticking before his eyes, so Jonathan quickly grabbed a cup of tea with a small dash of sweetener from the catering van just as Drew liked it and casually strolled over to assume damage control duty. "Hey," he called sheepishly extending the steaming cup as a proverbial olive branch, "you look stressed. Why don't you just take a quick minute to sit down and relax before we have another go? We have plenty of time."

Drew glanced disdainfully at the cup as though it alone was the source of all his misery, and reluctantly took it. He didn't really want it, but it was sort of chilly and the heat radiating from the paper cup was somewhat soothing. Ironic because by midday he would probably be hotter than a Vegas call girl on nickel night and begging for ice water all dressed up in his suit.

Jonathan sipped his tea with a hopeful eye toward his brother for any sign he was going to get off easy. Drew wasn't really the type of person to have a sit down over every little slight, so sometimes a small gesture served as a nonverbal request for forgiveness that he would silently grant and all was well again. Unfortunately by the time Jonathan hit the bottom of his cup, he realized this was not going to be one of those times and a mea culpa was in order. Although he didn't really feel the misstep was significant enough to warrant an overt apology, he would fall on his sword if it made his brother feel better. "I should have texted you last night." He admitted quietly.

Drew seemed momentarily distracted as though he was so deep in his mental inventory list, he'd forgotten his brother was even standing there. "What?" He asked shaking his head slightly until he caught up a half second later. "Oh, yeah- it's fine. Whatever." He was a bit surprised Jonathan would feel guilty over such a small thing and even more surprising still to apologize. It seemed fairly trivial, but if he felt he needed to clear the air as it were, it was fine by him even though the whole thing was over and done in his mind.

"Whatever?" Jonathan laughed incredulously. He wasn't offended per se, it was just funny because it was so against his personality to be outright dismissive.

His eyes widened slightly when he'd realized how he sounded. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" he sincerely offered as he glanced miserably down at his still full cup of tea. He was just so wrapped up in his own thoughts he barely put any effort into articulating his intention. Sometimes he wished the secret twin mind meld thing really did exist. "I'm just not with it today. It's only 7:30 and already I'm whipped. We still have to fly to Boston this afternoon and do that trade show and then the radio promos before I can even think about closing my eyes for a quick nap."

"Yeah, I know." Jonathan sighed in complete agreement, glancing around the property. Sometimes the word exhausted didn't even come close to describing the way they felt. Even so, they had a job to do and they were determined to plaster on a smile and pretend it was the best thing since sliced bread even if it was something close to human rights abuse to expect so much in so little time. But ever the problem solver, he gave Drew a pat on the arm and suggested "If you can get your lines knocked out, you could probably go back to the house and take a quick nap before I get done."

The idea sounded divine and his spirit lifted a little. "Can't you just pretend to be me? I don't wanna work today!" He playfully whined as though he were throwing a tantrum.

"Nah," Jonathan chuckled, "people would know because you don't have this magnificent mane of hair flowing in the breeze." He ran his hand over his hair to illustrate without actually touching it.

Drew scoffed as he glanced up at his brother's longer and infuriatingly perfectly styled locks and handed his tea to him to hold. "I've seen better hair on a donkey's butt, jackass." He laughed before he took off running back from whence he came, leaving Jonathan standing there holding his cup with a shocked and bemused look on his face.

"Careful or you'll split your ridiculous skinny suit pants!" He called after him. When Drew glanced back to give a victorious smile at having one upped him, he added "I can still throw a hammer at you. Got one right here!" He warned, lifting his claw hammer out of its loop by his side like a six shooter. "With a head as big as yours, I can't miss!"

"Who's got the big head?" He asked rhetorically. "Don't forget, we have you on camera apologizing to Mom for having such a huge cranium."

It was true while filming a webisode to promote Brother vs Brother in a moment of levity he did recall making some similar off the cuff remark. "If anyone, you should apologize because it's your fault. You wouldn't move your ass in the womb, your highness." He sweepingly bowed in mockery.

Drew flashed a glowing smile and gave an absolutely unapologetic shrug. He never tired of telling the tale of how for nine months he sat on his brother's head. Whether it was actually true or not was entirely beside the point because it made for a great story. "I'm such a ninja I was invisible even in the womb." He lazily put up a poorly executed karate fighting stance just to show he didn't take himself too seriously, even though he was a national champion and black belt.

If he enjoyed telling the world he sat on his twin's head, Jonathan equally enjoyed letting everyone know he was an utter and perhaps even unwelcome surprise given his mother's reported exclamation of profanity as he entered the world. He too was a karate champion and he shook his head at Drew's antics. Rather than offer a perfect counter stance, he waved his hand at him dismissively with a half-smile. "Get to work! You're holding us all up." He groused. While Drew preened and straightened his clothes as he shuffled to get back into position for the camera, Jonathan couldn't help but get one more shot in. "That's right," he called as he walked to the house to get to work himself, "dance, monkey- dance!"

"You're just jealous of my sweet moves!" He challenged. He considered doing a little Saturday Night Fever disco to prove his point, but he just got his shirt tucked back in again.

"The Macarena's dead, Drew." He hummed lightly as he inspected the tile he laid in the foyer only hours before. He gently tapped it with the toe of his boot and to his dismay it was still a little spongy which meant the grout had yet to firmly set. "And you will be dead to me if you do it on camera and make it popular again."

"I hate you." Drew warned. "Now I'll have that song stuck in my head all day." Despite his best efforts, he found himself humming the tune a scant two minutes later much to Jonathan's amusement.


	4. On the Road

"_When traveling with someone, take large doses of patience and tolerance with your morning coffee." ~ Helen Hayes_

**Chapter 4- On the Road**

Jonathan looked out the window of the car as they sat immobile in snarled traffic and sighed heavily as he massaged his temples in exhaustion and wondered just how much Zen he had left in the tank to deal with the day's stresses. The morning's shoot ended up taking longer than expected and they had only minutes to rush home and pack a bag for their flight which was to leave in an hour. Traffic was moving at a snail's pace and more and more it was looking like they weren't going to make it. It was all adding up to a mountain of expense, stress, and an impossibly long day. "Would you please stop?" He all but begged irritably.

Drew had seemed to catch his second wind since his off kilter morning and sat happily humming while he tapped his long fingers on the steering wheel to the tune in his head, traffic and heat be damned. He glanced over at his cranky brother and momentarily complied, but not out of any sense of duty- he too was tired of the repetitious yet incomprehensible mesh of words that he could recall of the Macarena. He returned his eyes to the road, thinking it was just a little unfair that Jonathan should be the one to get some peace while the annoying yet cheerful tune continued to bounce around inside his skull because it was his fault it was there in the first place.

The longer Jonathan sat there marinating in his own malaise and fatigue, the guiltier he felt for snapping at Drew. It was uncalled for and he knew it. The fact Drew immediately stopped without comment somehow made it worse because it was as if he was afraid of further reprisal. Although the two of them had not physically fought with any shred of ill intent since they were kids, it still somehow made him feel like an abuser. He often joked about harming his younger brother because he was somewhat bigger, but it was always in jest. Still, he wondered if after all that time and after so many idle threats, he in some way internalized it and was actually afraid of him. The very thought of it made him ill because he never pictured himself as a violent person.

As if he could read his mind, Drew glanced over at him with a goofy smile and crooned, "If you're on your own in this life, the days and nights are long. When you think you've had too much of this life to hang on…."

"No." Jonathan groaned, sinking into his seat until his knees hit the dash in front of him. Somehow it just seemed too corny to abide as they sat in the stalled traffic.

"Well, everybody hurts sometimes. Everybody cries…" he continued undeterred, even if his voice cracked a bit in the middle trying to hit higher notes.

"You're making me hurt more. REM you are not."

"Fine." Drew conceded before launching into an even more ridiculous song. "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy. But here's my number, so call me, maybe!" His falsetto was well beyond his range and it came out sounding like one of the Chipmunks, but that was entirely the point.

"What is this? Amateur hour?!" Jonathan giggled despite himself. Both he and Drew were half descent singers, but his twin was carrying on like a cat in heat and his choice of karaoke was equally abysmal. To top it all off, he was a captive and quite unwilling audience. He glanced out the window again and thought he might get to the airport faster if he just got out and walked anyway.

In the car across from them, a middle aged woman with an elderly old lady in the backseat pointed in their direction and waved excitedly. Drew leaned into Jonathan's lap to politely wave back, but muttered "no, please don't" when the woman rolled down her window. He should have known such a simple gesture would never have sufficed.

"Too late." Jonathan replied through his plastered on smile. On any other given day he might not have thought twice about it, but it was the notion that he was stuck with no means of escape that had him worried. No matter how often he was confronted with exuberant fans who yammered on about how much they loved him or the show, he never got comfortable with it and usually had a valid excuse to get away. Now, it looked as though he may be sitting there listening to her for hours- perhaps days. He dutifully rolled down his window and offered a friendly "Hello."

"I can't believe it!" The woman laughed. "I'm sitting here in traffic next to the Property Brothers! I love your show!"

"Thank you." Drew smiled, although he just knew it wasn't going to be the end of the conversation.

"This is my mother, Genie. She watches your show every time it's on." She mentioned, gesturing to the back seat.

The older woman smiled brightly and nodded. "You boys are so talented. My friends and I love to gather around to see what you can do with old homes. I just wish you were around when I bought my first house in 1948. My husband was a good man, but he was no handyman. We really could have used your help back then. Your mother must be so proud of you."

A genuine and warm if not lopsided smile spread across Jonathan's face. "I hope she is."

"She should be." She replied emphatically. "She raised two fine young men in a world full of mean spirited bastards."

Jonathan and Drew chuckled despite themselves as the woman's daughter turned a deep shade of red in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry." She hastily apologized.

"It's ok." Drew beamed, clearly amused with the old woman. "I appreciate her no-nonsense attitude." He bobbed his head to address her directly across Jonathan. "We appreciate you and your friends watching our shows, Genie. Keep giving them hell, 'eh?"

"I don't want to bother you guys, but could I take a picture of you? My daughter will never believe me." The woman asked timidly.

Jonathan extended his long arm out the window to reach for her cellphone so he could take a selfie with Drew. If the thought of a stranger hopping into the back of the car wasn't odd enough, the prospect of getting out of the car and drawing further attention to themselves seemed even bleaker. He held her phone at arm's length and leaned in close to his brother so they could both smile before snapping the picture. Being heavy users of social media, they were masters of the selfie and nailed it on the first shot.

"Thank you!" The woman squealed excitedly, retrieving her phone as though it were now a brick of gold. "God bless you two!"

"Thank you." They replied in unison almost as a reflex. To seal the finality of the moment, Drew waved slowly while Jonathan rolled up the window.

"That wasn't so bad." Jonathan noted quietly, giving a last smile and wave to Genie. "She seemed really sweet."

"Spitfire, though." Drew chuckled as he slowly inched the car forward to put whatever modicum of space he could manage between them as if a few inches could really make that much of a difference.

Jonathan glanced at his brother and burst out laughing. "Did you realize you said 'eh?' Could you be anymore stereotypically Canadian? We don't even say that at home!"

Drew seemed at a loss for words as he replayed the conversation in his head. "No I didn't." He refuted, although the tone of his voice belied the fact he was unsure of it himself.

"You did!" He chuckled. "I was waiting for a herd of moose to wander by or us to get passed by a poutine truck."

"So what if it slipped out? Are you ashamed of your ethnicity?" He asked a little defensive.

Jonathan shook his head clearly amused. "My- OUR- ethnicity is Scottish. Our nationality is Canadian. The two aren't even the same thing."

The corners of Drew's eyes crinkled slightly as he grinned because he knew he'd made a mistake. In his mind, the only way out of the hole was to dig in deeper. "Obviously. Only an idiot would wear a kilt in the Antarctic."

"Artic." Jonathan patiently corrected. "Northern Canada is in the Artic Circle and it's where Santa Clause lives."

"Do you still believe in Santa?" Drew playfully chided.

"No, because after all those years of asking for him to bring you a brain I realized he didn't exist." He replied making a show of his quick and sometimes sarcastic wit.

Never one to be outdone, Drew quipped "Yeah? Well I kept asking him to take you back and give me a puppy, but that didn't happen either. Every Christmas Eve I'd shut my eyes tight and wish with everything I had, but in the morning I'd wake up to see your ugly mug. Disappointment can't even begin to describe the letdown."

"See? That's the difference between you and me. I wished for you to gain things and you only think of yourself. Some brotherly love, 'eh?"

"What was that?" Drew asked barely containing his laughter.

"I said I wanted good things for you, but…"

"No, no. At the end. What did you say last poutine boy?" Outwardly at least he put on the most supreme self-righteous smugness he could muster with a raised eyebrow, but inwardly he was absolutely giddy with pleasure. He loved his brother, but he loved putting him in his place every now and again even more.

Jonathan turned slightly to face the window. "I'm no longer speaking with you." He stated petulantly. There was just no walking that one back and trapped as he was, all he could do was ignore Drew while he gloated.

Drew cleared his throat and in a baritone voice belted out his native country's anthem. "Oh, Canada! Our home and native land!"

"You are being so ridiculous right now." He sulked, folding his arms across his chest.

He paused for a moment, realizing his brother was taking it a bit harder than he usually did but he just couldn't resist one last jab. He glanced over at his surly sibling and quietly suggested "You should eat a Snickers. You're grumpy when you're hungry."

Jonathan glanced sideways at the brother for at least the moment he wished he didn't have- or at least didn't have to be in the same car with. "You should shut the hell up. You're annoying when you don't know when to stop."

"Is that how it's going to be, then?" He asked mildly offended. "Fine. I was going to be nice and give you my little packet of overly salted peanuts on the plane, but now I'll just keep them to myself."

"And do what with them? You never eat them anyway."

Once again, he put on a slightly highbrow tone with just a hint of humor to smooth things over. "What I do with my nuts is my business."

"Indeed." Jonathan sighed with a grimace at the unfortunate yet begrudgingly clever double entendre. No matter how old he got or how sophisticated he thought himself to be, deep down he still found toilet humor funny and he couldn't suppress his lopsided smile.


End file.
